Archive for the ‘Fitch Phoenix’ tag

As recently as a few years ago, John Fitch still entertained thoughts of putting his Fitch Phoenix sports car into production, giving its name a literal backing. He asked people on the streets whether the design still had its appeal, and he believed any modern front-wheel-drive drivetrain would work well in it. Those dreams apparently died with Fitch in 2012, however, and now his Phoenix will head to auction.

Built in 1966, Fitch’s Phoenix came about as a progression of the work he’d already put in over the previous few years modifying Chevrolet Corvairs. Based out of a shop in Falls Village, Connecticut, Fitch not only offered components to improve the handling and power output of the rear-engined air-cooled sedans, he also converted Corvairs over to Fitch Sprint specifications, adding his own homebrew quad-carburetor system, shortened steering arms, stiffer rear springs, a steering damper and radial tires. Looking to build a track version of the Sprint, one that would conceivably compete in a dedicated racing class, he then built a prototype Super Sprint, which used Sprint running gear hung from a custom chassis and draped in a fiberglass semi-open wheel two-seat body.

When that venture fell through, however, Fitch decided to repurpose the bones of the Super Sprint into a road-going sports car – one that could be serviced just about anywhere in the United States with easy-to-obtain replacement parts, but could still make its way around a road course without embarrassing itself. To do so, he enlisted the help of Coby Whitmore, with whom Fitch had years earlier collaborated on the Fitch-Whitmore Jaguar, to design the car and Intermeccanica in Turin to build the car in one-millimeter-thick steel. Like the Super Sprint, the Phoenix (“The name… was considered kind of daring, with its association with destruction by fire,” Fitch explained to Kit Foster for a story in Special Interest Autos) used Corvair underpinnings – specifically a chassis from a 1965 Corvair (specifically a Corsa two-door hardtop sport coupe, according to its chassis number) with its wheelbase shortened from 108 inches to 95 and fitted with Fitch Sprint suspension upgrades – and a 140-cu.in. Corvair flat-six engine tuned to produce 160 horsepower. It didn’t, however, meet all the specifications Fitch originally laid out. Instead of a target weight of 2,000 pounds, it came in at 2,150 pounds; and to meet a July deadline to finish the car, Fitch omitted the planned disc brakes and a carburetor setup that would have wrung another 10 horsepower from the engine.

Photo courtesy Bonhams.

Even so, the Phoenix still packed in plenty of features, including an integral roll bar, targa top, dual full-size spares, ventilated leather seats, and all the handling capabilities of his Fitch Sprints. His business plan called for building 500 Phoenixes – with bodies built by Intermeccanica and shipped to Falls Village for final assembly – at a cost of $8,700 apiece, and Fitch took about 100 orders for it before that September, when the National Traffic and Motor Vehicle Safety Act became law. Though it wouldn’t take effect until January 1, 1968, the Act – meant to ensure that all cars sold in the United States conformed to a host of safety standards – didn’t initially include any provisions for small manufacturers like Fitch, so Fitch decided to refund all deposits and cancel the Phoenix project, keeping the one driveable prototype for himself.

Photos courtesy Bonhams.

When we spoke with Fitch in 2009 about the Phoenix, he said that he had been in talks with an unnamed collector about selling the Phoenix, but he insisted on retaining the rights to it, should he ever decide to try again to put it into production. When he died in October 2012, however, the Phoenix remained in the garage at his 1767 colonial in Lime Rock, Connecticut, just a couple miles from where he originally assembled the Phoenix, less than 24,000 miles showing on its odometer.

In the years since Fitch’s death, the Consulier GTP that he drove has since been put up for sale for $375,000 – an asking price no doubt inflated by the car’s association with the legendary driver. Bonhams, which will offer the Fitch Phoenix at its Greenwich auction, has put a more modest pre-auction estimate on the Phoenix of $150,000 to $200,000.

The Bonhams Greenwich auction will take place June 1. For more information, visit Bonhams.com.

UPDATE (2.June 2014): The Fitch Phoenix beat its estimate over the weekend, selling for $253,000, including premiums.

Generally speaking, professional race car drivers tend to be interesting people. Well traveled, (often) well educated and usually well read, racers at the highest level can tell stories to entertain even the most jaded listeners. If wealth can be measured in experience, then the richest race car driver the world has ever known was quite likely John Cooper Fitch.

Born in Indianapolis, Indiana, on August 4, 1917, Fitch’s resume included time as a fighter pilot in World War II, 18 years of racing at the sport’s highest levels, a host of inventions and patents (many relating to automotive safety) and numerous books to his name. Though Fitch came from a family of inventors (his great-great-grandfather, also named John Fitch, had invented the steamboat, and another distant relative pioneered the wheeled plow), he never completed college, dropping out after just a single year in Lehigh University’s College of Engineering.

From there, Fitch sailed on a freighter for Europe, settling temporarily in London. When war broke out in 1939, Fitch tried to join the Royal Air Corps; rejected by the British, Fitch sailed back to the United States and enlisted in the Army Air Corps in 1941. Trained to fly the A-20 Havoc and later, the P-51 Mustang fighter, Fitch had the distinction of shooting down a German Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter as it was taking off. A later mission would see Fitch himself shot down and captured by the Germans, and he would spend some 90 days as a prisoner of war.

Fitch came from a monied family (his grandfather, Asa Fitch, invented Fitch’s Chewing Gum), and following the conclusion of the war found himself mixing with the elite in Palm Beach, Florida. A competitive yacht racer, Fitch reportedly met the Duke of Windsor (who would become a lifelong friend) by micturating on the same bush outside a society function.

After a few years in Palm Beach, Fitch found his way to the Northeast, where he opened a foreign car dealership in White Plains, New York. Soon he was racing an MG-TC at regional road circuits, where his natural ability to drive a car at speed soon had him progressing to faster cars, such as the Jaguar XK120 he’d enter in the very first race at Sebring. By 1951, Fitch had come to the attention of Briggs Cunningham and the year would prove to be a busy one for the American driver. Racing his Fitch-Whitmore, as well as a Cadillac-Allard and a Cunningham C-2, Fitch would go on to earn a class win at the 1951 Grand Prix of Argentina (earning him a kiss from Eva Peron) before being crowned the very first Sports Car Club of America (SCCA) national champion.

Fitch campaigned a variety of cars in 1952, and competed in the 24 Hours of Le Mans with the Cunningham team for the second year in a row. When a fuel contamination issue ended his bid for a Le Mans victory early, Fitch approached the Mercedes-Benz team to congratulate them on a solid performance, and team engineer Rudolf Uhlenhaut offered Fitch the chance to drive the new 300 SL for a few demonstration laps following an upcoming race at the Nürburgring. Fitch gave it his all, and at the conclusion of two laps, the Mercedes team asked him to turn a third to prove the first two weren’t blind luck. When the third lap was faster than the first two, Fitch’s entry onto the Mercedes-Benz team was all but certain. The deal was clinched later in the year by Fitch’s solid performance behind the wheel of a 300 SL in La Carrera Panamericana.

Though Fitch now had a solid relationship with Mercedes-Benz, he wouldn’t actually join the team until 1955. The 1953 season saw Fitch driving an even wider variety of cars for even more teams, but the season’s high point was likely a victory at Sebring with co-driver Phil Walters. His strong performance that year was also good enough to earn him “Sports Car Driver of the Year” honors from Speed Age magazine.

The 1954 season was more of the same, and Fitch split his time driving for Briggs Cunningham (in the C4R and in the Ferrari 375MM) and for Mercedes-Benz. For 1955, Fitch was invited to join the Mercedes-Benz factory team, and he immediately delivered a class win at the Mille Miglia in a stock 300 SL coupe, despite problems with the production car’s suspension. For Le Mans, Fitch would be paired with French driver Pierre Levegh in a Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR, but Fitch would never get a turn behind the wheel. Forty-two laps into the event, Levegh swerved to avoid contact with the Austin-Healey 100S of Lance Macklin. The front right of Levegh’s 300 SLR struck the rear left of Macklin’s 100S, launching the Mercedes into a grandstand crowded with spectators. In what remains the worst accident in motorsport history, Levegh and some 83 race fans were killed, with another 120 injured.

The accident had a profound effect on Fitch, and though he never backed away from racing, he did spend his “down time” inventing ways to improve both racing safety and automotive safety. Among his 15 patents are a displaceable guardrail and a compression barrier, both designed for race tracks, as well as the Fitch Driver Capsule for formula cars. The “Fitch Barrier,” a high-visibility yellow barrel filled with energy-absorbing water or sand, is nowadays a common sight on interstate highways throughout the United States.

The 1955 tragedy at Le Mans prompted Mercedes-Benz to exit racing, and Fitch was soon approached by General Motors to manage (and drive for) its newly formed Chevrolet Corvette racing team. Given just six weeks to prepare cars for the 1956 running of the 12 Hours of Sebring, Fitch prepared a total of four cars using two different engines. This put the Corvettes in both B and C Production, and to everyone’s surprise, the Corvettes took home a victory in both classes. Fitch would remain with the team through the 1960 season, while also driving the occasional Jaguar or Maserati for Briggs Cunningham. At Le Mans in 1960, Fitch drove a Corvette (entered by Cunningham) to a first place finish in the GT 5.0 class, finishing in eighth place overall.

Fitch continued to race, though admitted to having a bit less enthusiasm with each passing season. Paired with Cunningham in a Porsche 904 at Sebring in 1966, mechanical failure retired the car early, and both drivers made the decision to end their racing careers at the event. The retirement for Fitch was never permanent, as he continued to drive at vintage and exhibition events and was a frequent competitor at Lime Rock Park, the Connecticut track he helped to develop (and later, manage). He never let age slow him down, either: In 2003, at age 87, Fitch traveled to Bonneville to attempt a land speed record behind the wheel of a Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR, an event documented in the film A Gullwing at Twilight: The Bonneville Ride of John Fitch.

John Fitch in the Fitch Phoenix.

Fitch also designed and produced a series of cars during his illustrious career, including the Chevrolet Corvair-based Fitch Sprint, which he’d follow up with the stillborn Fitch Phoenix (also Corvair-based), the Fitch Firebird and the Fitch Toronado Phantom. While none was hugely successful, Fitch Sprint Corvairs are among the most collectible of the breed today.

Fitch died at his Connecticut home on October 31, 2012, age 95. While other drivers have, perhaps, posted more victories, none has left such a rich and enduring legacy on both the world of motorsports and on the American landscape.

In honor of John Fitch, who died this past week at the age of 95, we decided it would be appropriate to take a look at Kit Foster’s story on the Fitch Phoenix (including sidebars on Fitch’s many adventures and other cars) from SIA #117, June 1990.

A living legend has left us. John Fitch, the racer whose life would have been entirely unbelievable had he not lived it, has died at the age of 95.

It’s difficult to sum up John Fitch’s life without leaving something important out, just as it’s difficult to find any one highlight to his life, considering that his whole life was one almost endless highlight reel. He knew just about everybody there was to know in international racing’s glory years, he drove with some of the best and most notorious race car drivers on the planet, he built his own cars and designed a world-renowned race track, and he invented safety devices that continue to save lives today.

He was born August 4, 1917, to a family that counts another John Fitch, the inventor of the steamboat, among its ancestors; Fitch’s stepfather worked as an executive at Stutz and introduced the young Fitch to automobiles and to engineering. He went to Lehigh University to study the latter, but dropped out in 1939 to visit Europe “to see the world before it was destroyed,” he said. Two years later, he volunteered for the Army Air Corps and flew missions in North Africa and England before being shot down over Germany in 1944 and serving out the rest of World War II as a prisoner. He began racing sports cars in 1949 and eventually earned a spot on the Mercedes racing team, sharing a co-driver spot with Pierre Levegh at the infamous 1955 24 Hours of Le Mans. He later raced for Chevrolet and Briggs Cunningham, but the Le Mans crash stayed with him and influenced him to develop the Fitch Inertial Barrier System – those sand-filled yellow barrels that have become almost standard at highway exit ramps. During the 1960s, he turned to tuning the Chevrolet Corvair in attempts to make it perform along the lines of the sports cars that he had so much experience with, and in the mid-1960s built the one-off Fitch Phoenix, a Corvair-based two-seater that very nearly made it into series production. Though he retired from racing in 1966, he remained a fixture in the international racing scene – particularly in and around Lime Rock Park – and in 2003 attempted to set a land-speed record in a Mercedes-Benz 300SL gullwing.

In my line of work, I get the chance to talk with many legends of the auto industry – men who have shaped automotive history in some way in the pursuit of speed, safety, profit, fame, glory or their own ideas of what is right and wrong, automobile-wise. A few months ago, I was lucky enough to have spoken with John Fitch for a Hot Rod Hero article in Hemmings Muscle Machines, and when he invited me down to his place in Lime Rock, Connecticut, I jumped at the chance to meet him in person.

John, at 92, has done just about everything. Briefly, he studied engineering, quit college, visited Europe before World War II, trained as a fighter pilot, was shot down in the war and held as a POW, owned an MG dealership back in the States, sailed around the Gulf of Mexico for a year, raced for Briggs Cunningham, Chevrolet and Mercedes at pretty much every track in North America and Europe, invented the Fitch Safety Barrier, tuned Corvairs, tried to build his own limited-production sports car, helped found and manage Lime Rock Park and written and talked extensively on all of the above.

And he’s still very active. Tall and lean as ever, he greeted me at the door in no less than a red blazer, plaid wool pants, dapper cap and his tie tucked in between the buttons of his shirt. He apologized for the disarray of his house – his wife died recently, and he’s reverted to a bachelor lifestyle, with papers stacked everywhere. He produced a stack of envelopes from his blazer pocket and said he carried them around to jot down ideas and notes – eventually, the stack grows too big for the pocket, so he wraps the stack in a rubber band and starts a new collection of notes. Though he’s donated some of his effects to the Saratoga Auto Museum, memorabilia from a lifetime of involvement in sports cars – photographs, posters, car show placards, programs from honorary events, trophies tarnished over time – hang around the place like forgotten friends. John seems less interested in nostalgia than in whatever activity he may be currently engaged in. “I have my own priorities,” he said.